Almost Gone
by Leigh Hayley
Summary: Oneshot-Spoilers For "Two Minutes To Midnight".


Metal clinked against metal as Dean rooted around under the hood of the Impala, tools in his hands, and grease in his hair. He tightened what he hoped was a loose screw, straightened, and swiped the back of his hand across his sweat covered brow. He gripped the tools in his fists and placed them on his hips, taking a moment to stand back and admire the work he wanted Sam and Bobby to think he'd done.

"There's nothing wrong with the car, Dean," Sam muttered as he stepped closer to stand behind his brother. He leaned forward and pressed a bottle of beer against Dean's chest, barely giving his brother enough time to put down his tools and take it before letting it go.

"It was makin' a noise, Sam," Dean argued, as he twisted the bottle's cap off and took a long sip of the amber liquid. "Somethin' was rattlin' around in there."

A soft smile tugged at Sam's lips as he slowly made his way around the driver's side and leaned his hip into the side of the hood. He glanced at the engine, shook his head, knowingly, and tipped his head back, downing the remaining contents of his own bottle.

"That's crap, Dean," Sam chuckled. "And don't lie to me. I know what's goin' on here."

Dean's brow arched up as he lifted an arm to close down the hood. He jerked his chin at Sam's hand resting on the inside edge and grunted, "Watch your fingers."

Sam removed his hand and tossed his empty beer bottle into a nearby metal trashcan. He barely heard the cracking glass over the slam of the hood as Dean brought it down.

"What are you talkin' about, Sammy?" he asked, tossing the tools into the open trunk slamming that closed, too.

Sam grinned, his theory officially proven. Not only was Dean indulging in his nervous habit of tinkering with the Impala when nothing was wrong with it, he had also called Sam "Sammy" for no particular reason.

"This is what you always do when you're nervous, Dean," Sam said, jerking his chin at the hood of the car. "You pretend to be working on the Impala, when in reality, all you're doing is banging a few tools around and tightening screws that don't need to be tightened."

The cord of muscle in Dean's jaw convulsed for moment as he silently stared off into Bobby's junkyard and took another sip of his beer.

"You do this whenever you're nervous," Sam said again. "Or scared, or can't sleep, or—"

"Okay, I get it," Dean growled, stopping Sam short and shooting a quick, hot glare in his little brother's direction. "I got a lot on my mind, I admit it. There, are you happy?"

Sam tapped the tips of his fingers on the hood of car, his short fingernails making tiny pinging noises against the metal, below. He glanced at Dean, but wasn't surprised when he didn't look back.

"So…what's up?" Sam asked.

Finally, Dean turned his head. His eyebrows shot up in a disbelieving frown. The corners of his lips almost turned up as he let out a quick snort. "You serious?"

Sam shrugged.

"Where do I start, Sam?" Dean asked and didn't bother to wait for an answer. "We're best buds with a demon again, Bobby's runnin' around here like a crazy person, kickin' up his heels just because he can, Cas is freakin' human, we were almost killed by Pestilence, and I went on a date with Death."

Sam dropped his head forward and almost chuckled at the fact that he wasn't the least bit shocked by his brother's words. It was nothing new. To them it was just…life.

"The Croatoan virus is being shipped all over the world, people are turning into zombies, Adam's still missing," Dean paused, glanced at Sam, and pointed a stiff finger at him. "And oh yeah…you want to say yes to the devil."

Sam looked across the hood at Dean, his expression instantly morphing into instant puppy dog mode. "You wanted to say yes to Michael," he muttered, pouting.

Dean leaned against the other side of the hood and held up his hand. "Yeah, but that was—"

"Don't you dare tell me that was different," Sam argued, interrupting him. "It's not different, Dean. And you know it."

Dean bowed his head, knowing he'd been beat. He knew Sam was right. Their situations weren't the slightest bit different. Neither one of them had any more right than the other to choose to say yes or no. Just like neither one of them deserved the weight they carried on their shoulders.

"I don't _want_ to say yes, Dean," Sam mumbled with a shrug. "If that makes you feel any better."

Surprisingly enough, it did.

Dean nodded. Deep down, he hadn't really wanted to say yes, either. He simply thought he had no other choice. Just like Sam was thinking now. And the funny thing was that Sam's decision would work better at saving them than Dean's would have.

And Dean didn't like that at all.

He'd once been accused before of having a hero complex. He'd been told he always felt as though it had to be him, alone to save the planet and every human on its surface. He'd always thought it was his deal and no one else's.

And if that wasn't the truth, Dean didn't know what was.

He did always feel as though it had to be him. He always felt it had to be his job, his mission, his priority to save everyone.

Including, first and foremost, Sam.

Sam came first. Always had. Always would. He was Dean's first priority, his number one, his responsibility. He'd always been the little brother he had to watch out for, but now…

Now Dean couldn't get Bobby's words out of his head.

_"We're hard on him, Dean. We've always been…"_

And Bobby was right. They had always been hard on him. Maybe too hard. And maybe there had been no reason for that, because Bobby had also told Dean that Sam had saved at least ten civilians that day, without thinking twice or even bothering to slow down.

_"He's been runnin' into burning buildings since he was twelve…"_

That's where Bobby had been wrong. Sam had been even younger than that.

He'd saved a kitten from a tree when he was eight. He'd climbed to the top of a huge pine, slicing his ear open on the way up, and cutting his knee on the way down. When he'd finally reached the bottom, he was covered in blood, sap, and cat scratches.

While Dean had wanted to toss the screaming kitten under a bus and call it a day, Sam had simply stood there and cradled it against his chest until it stopped shaking. And by the end of the day, he'd even found a good home for it, to boot.

And never once did Sam complain about how much pain and suffering he'd went through to get the stupid thing down.

Dean chuckled at the memory and took another sip of beer. He glanced at Sam and tried not to smile. Despite Sam's wide shoulders, tall height, and enormous frame, Dean could still see him as a little boy with huge puppy dog eyes, dweeby smile, and a great need for a haircut.

But then, he blinked…and his baby brother was replaced with a grown man.

A man that just might save the world.

_"Sam's got a darkness in him, and I'm not sayin' he don't, but he's got a hell of a lot of good in him, too…"_

Dean closed his eyes for a moment, letting the gravity of Bobby's words sink into his brain. Sam did have a darkness in him. One that Dean never understood, but he had good in him, too. Perhaps even more than Dean did.

_"Sam will beat the devil or die tryin'…and that's the best we could ask for…"_

Dean's lips curled up in a smile against the mouth of his beer bottle. Bobby had been right about that, too. But despite his newfound trust and hope in his brother, Dean couldn't help but remember something else Bobby had said. Words that had burrowed deep and struck him at his very core.

_"I gotta ask, Dean: what exactly are you afraid of? Losin'? Or losin' your brother?"_

Dean had never answered him, simply because he hadn't needed to. Bobby already knew the answer. Dean wasn't afraid of losing the battle and he wasn't afraid of the end of the world.

He was afraid of losing Sam.

Dean lifted his head and glanced at Sam, smiling when he lifted an enormous hand to push his too-long hair out of his face. Dean chuckled.

Once again, Sam was little, awkward, and climbing up a huge tree to save a wayward kitten.

Maybe Sam didn't understand the severity of what could happen to him. Maybe he didn't even care, but all Dean knew was that he trusted his brother and knew he would do the right thing.

Even if it meant losing his life in the process.

It was a much bigger gig than just saving a kitten, but maybe, just maybe…

Dean smiled, jerked his chin at Bobby's front door, and pushed himself up off the hood of the Impala. He walked around to the driver's side, clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder, and tugged him toward the house.

"Come on, Sammy. Let's go inside," he grunted. "My beer's almost gone."

**-Please review...Thank you. **


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